


Raindrops Can Be Sweet

by bri_notthecheese



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Complete and Utter Fluff™, F/M, Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 07:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20944277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bri_notthecheese/pseuds/bri_notthecheese
Summary: With a thunderstorm howling outside, there is little else Anya and her team can do but wait it out. Most sleep, but Anya finds Sten keeping himself occupied in the kitchen and figures she might as well keep him company.





	Raindrops Can Be Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annoying_F__k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annoying_F__k/gifts).

> Inktober/Promptober Day 7: Enchanted
> 
> Presenting the lovely Warden of one of my best friends--Anya Cousland. Sadly, BioWare broke her heart by not making Sten romance-able.
> 
> This idea was actually given to me by another one of our friends so I can't claim ownership of the setting in which this takes place ;)

Thunder crashes and booms outside, and it’s little wonder that no one has left the protection of their homes today in the village. Even the servants remained inside Redcliffe Castle as the weather raged on. Arl Eamon had requested the entire group wait the storm out in comfort, as he felt it was the least he could do after they saved them from the demon.

Anya stares out the window as the water is whipped about in the sky. Rainstorms had always been one of her favorite things growing up—there’s simply nothing like hearing the howling winds as she’s safe inside and curled up by a warm fireplace. Tonight the atmosphere is no different, though the nostalgia sends an ache to her heart when she thinks on the fate of the Couslands.

Gibb snoozes on a pillow a few feet from the fireplace. His snores cause her to giggle as he clearly interacts with his dream. His company is extremely welcome here, as the room she’s been given almost feels too large. She knows it’s because of her increasing status as ‘the Warden with the treaties,’ and it’s not so dissimilar to the one she used to have back home, but after a few months of camping with everyone only a few feet away, it’s lonely.

The rest of her team is sprawled out throughout the castle. Leliana and Wynne are only a few doors down. Originally, Arl Eamon had placed Morrigan with Leliana, but the witch wasn’t having any of that and requested her own room. Wynne graciously swapped with her. Even after the time they’ve all shared, Morrigan isn’t comfortable being near people.

Alistair and Zevran share a room in a separate wing, despite Alistair’s nervous uncertainty that Zevran might still possibly be out for their heads. For some reason, Anya finds she trusts Zevran even though his assassination attempt had only been a few weeks ago. The Antivan is charming, sure, but there is something in his eyes that bespeaks the truth.

Sten is the final member and had been placed near Alistair and Zevran, but he’d been given his own room. The servants in the castle hadn’t seemed to know what to do with a Qunari, despite him only being a bit larger than a tall human.

Anya hopes they’ve all settled in well. It’d been late when the invitation had been extended and by now it must be nearly midnight. Her bed looks soft and inviting but her mind’s moving too fast to be able to sleep just yet. Watching the rain helps.

Eventually, she realizes even that doesn’t quiet her mind. Without physically being on the road, Anya feels as if she’s wasting precious time. They need to head to the Brecillian Forest as soon as they’re able and start the talks with the Dalish, who will inevitably need something done too. Anya rolls her eyes.

With sleep scratched from the list for now, she hops off of the window seat and heads downstairs towards the kitchen. The staff may be asleep, but she hopes there’ll be something she can snack on. The corn bread from earlier had been delicious…

Another enticing smell hits her senses as she nears the kitchen. Peeking in, she spies Sten near the wooden tables. He’s busy working. Curious, she tries to get a peek but his muscular frame hides whatever it is that he’s doing.

Anya takes a quiet step into the room and the floorboard creaks. She freezes. Sten turns around and she lifts a hand. “Hey.”

“Hello. Not sleeping well?”

Anya moves further into the room. “Haven’t tried yet. What’re you doing?”

Sten angles his body so she can easily spot the bowl full of dough—some of which has already been flattened out and placed on boards for the oven. Anya smiles.

“Cookies!”

“Yes.” Sten turns back to face his project and if Anya isn’t mistaken, his cheeks almost seemed flushed. He begins sprinkling some more flour into the large bowl.

“Can I help?”

“Ah…I'm afraid not. There is a system in which I do this, and it would be more difficult to explain.”

“No problem.” Anya hates to admit it, but her heart sinks slightly from that. She enjoys spending time with Sten and if she isn’t careful, she absolutely knows she could fall for him.

_Maybe you already have,_ her mind whispers to her.

Blatantly ignoring that, she plops herself down on one of the stools to watch him work. “What made you decide to make cookies in the middle of the night?”

“I enjoy sweets. Plus…I could not sleep either.”

“Mmm, afraid of thunderstorms?”

Sten shoots her a look of disbelief and Anya laughs. He returns it with a small smile. “No.”

“I used to be afraid of thunderstorms when I was _really_ small,” Anya begins. She tells him how Fergus would come into her room to calm her down. They’d play games or read stories to pass the time and eventually, the storms weren’t as scary anymore and instead became something she enjoyed. Sten listens avidly, nodding at the right places while he continues to focus on the task at hand.

Truth be told, she knows she’s utterly and completely enchanted by him.

He’s a reliable and strong fighter, and while she may have slightly one-sided conversations with him now, over the past few months, he’s been opening up more and more. Handsome, too. The light from the oven casts the room in a warm glow and it accentuates his features perfectly in the balance between light and shadow. She’d been staring too long when she realizes he’s said something.

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked if you would like one.” Sten is holding a cookie out to her from a batch he’d grabbed from the oven. Oops. She really had spaced out.

“Thank you.”

It’s delicious, because of course it is. Of course Sten is an excellent baker and she has to sit here and pretend she isn’t interested? She takes another bite ruefully.

“You should rest, Kadan.”

_Kadan?_

“I know, I know. But what about you? You’ve got a couple more batches to go.” Anya gestures to the uncooked dough around.

“I will not be much longer. But you are our leader. We need you sharp.”

She can’t argue with that. Finishing the treat, Anya subconsciously steps towards him to bid him goodnight. He notices so she can’t very well take it back and decides to pat his arm. _Dammit._

“Thank you again, Sten.”

“Sleep well.”


End file.
